Always in my Heart
by Magentafang
Summary: An alternate ending to Eldest; what happens if the battle between dragons is lost? What will Eragon do? k   to be safe


Always in my Heart

**Authors note: Hey everyone this is my first fan fiction, so please be nice, but I also don't mind constructive criticism. Thanks and enjoy!**

**Discalimer: I don't any of the Characters, they will always belong to Christopher Paolini. Sniff. **

Eragon picked his way between the corpses that littered the Burning Plains, in a daze, moving slowly on account of his wounds and his exhaustion. He encountered other survivors staggering across the scorched battlefield; hollow-eyed men who looked without truly seeing, their meaningless stares moving around the distance.

Eragon was feeling terrible. No; he was feeling worse than terrible; like the sharpest clawed fist had somehow managed to punch a hole on the left side of his chest and took his heart. This feeling brought back the painful memories of what had just happened, but he refused to believe.

Halfway through the battle with Murtagh, the latter had managed to take control of his mind, twisting it so Eragon was incapable of doing anything, except for fall to the ground 20 metres below them. He could remember Saphira's roar of distress when she had seen him fall, which gave Thorn the moment of distraction he needed to use his sharp talons and ferocious fire to do his evil work.

And, finally, he remembered how Saphira's brilliant blue body of scales had managed to fall gracefully, and untouched through the sky. The only thing that had ruined the moment was that Eragon knew she was dead.

Suddenly, with no warning, his body collapsed onto the dusty ground in violent spasms as realization hit home that he would never see Saphira alive again, nor would he hear her thoughts, feel her life. And, for the first time in his life, Eragon felt alone. As he began to pass out, Eragon heard voices…"Eragon!"…"Help!"…then everything went black.

A voice pulled Eragon from his slumber,

"Eragon! Where's Saphira?"

Looking up, he saw Arya holding a cold compress to his head and with a rather strangled expression of concern written across her face. Eragon tried to speak, but nothing came out. He didn't really care though. He would rather die than sit there feeling the way he did. But Arya would take none of it. She lifted a wineskin to his mouth and forced him to swallow at least three mouthfuls.

"Saphira's dead, Arya" whispered Eragon, his voice hoarse, and with a dead expression on his bloodied face.

Despair replaced the concern in Arya's eyes. Her angular lips formed a silent "oh" and closed again.

"How are you feeling?"

"Dead." He replied.

Eragon placed his chin on her shoulder and began to sob in a half mad and half depressed way,

"I want her, I want her" he sobbed, almost mumbling. Arya patted his back reassuringly and crooned,

"Of course you do…you need to keep strong…we need you," she said.

After she declared this, Eragon pulled out of the hug and drew himself to his full height and said bitterly,

"You can't expect me to walk out of this with a smiling face and a cheerful heart, because if you do, you have no love in your soul at all."

With that he left the Varden camp forever with only a sword and a horse. When he was at least five kilometres from the camp he heard the sound of horses galloping behind him, trying to catch up. Eragon touched his own horse twice in the sides to change its gait into a steady gallop; he didn't want to hear what they had to say.

One of the horsemen, whose voice was recognised as Jörmundur's, yelled out

"Wait Rider! We need to talk to you!"

Hearing this, Eragon turned in his saddle slightly, just to see who else was there, but kept his horse at a gallop. Not only was Jörmundur there, but there was also Arya, Nasuada and his cousin, Roran.

Seeing Arya was the only thing that made him stop. The expression on her face wasn't unlike his own face when Saphira died, the look of need and grief rolled into one. It pained Eragon to see this, but he did not realise that the pain Arya was going through was the same as Eragon himself was going through; loss.

_Eragon, don't leave…please? _Arya's mental being touched Eragon's in order to talk to him privately.

_But I have to, there's nothing here for me now, _replied Eragon.

_But where will you go?_

_Away from Alagaësia forever. To the land where the elves first came from, Oromis showed me a map of it. It will suffice._

At this, Arya jerked her head in surprise.

_But no one knows where that is! How does Oromis know? I'll go with you, to see this land for myself._

Eragon felt something he had expected to never feel again for the resr of his existence. Love and longing. Suddenly, Eragon knew what to do.

"Could you gentlemen and lady please leave Arya and I for a few minutes?" Eragon asked stiffly.

Jörmundur and Roran nodded and turned away, but Nasuada led her horse in a trot to him and leant over to kiss him on the cheek,

"Do what you must, Shadeslayer" she whispered in his ear, turned and left.

Arya watched them leave then turned to Eragon, with a question on her lips.

"What…?" Eragon silenced her with a short but passionate kiss, something that he had felt like doing for the past year, and said,

"My life ended, along with the death of Saphira, but a part of me will always be alive with you" with this, Eragon leant over to kiss her again.

"Will you please tell the others of my plans" he added, before turning away and he rode out of her life forever.

Arya watched him until he disappeared into the night and whispered after him,

"You will always be in my heart, Eragon Shadeslayer."

**Authors Note:**

**So, what did you think? Alright for a first fan fiction?**

**I would really appreciate some feedback, so review please **

**And thank you all for reading!**


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